Miguel Cotto II (Chopped and Screwed)

Catch the fade aint nothing to f*ck with Torn MC flesh through my bicuspids Chipotle sell wraps and so do the fade Over the beat, Pass words like a sign in page Power lines over your head but the birds on it These niggaz making songs with no words on it Air traffic control, I talk fly all day I had to check my rhyme book into T-S-A Dickriding is the worst form of transportation They tell me My drive can drive past the hating Corn balls they should serve you at a movie theatre She talk bad behind your back, you should hear her She say You a bitch, you a bundle of sticks Plus I'mma leave yo ass when the fade get rich Shoutout to Baltimore and them niggaz that have it hard Knowing we should be signed like back of a credit card They never keep it a dime, but always add their nonsense I'll demolition derby their existence, crushing contents With a blade tucked, face cut One sway of the Wesson at the forehead, causes a line to shape up Never afraid, always engaged, in the eyes of the shade Disguised as a plague, rot in minds, lies of the fake Crazy locations, they wild tourists Never bit that hand that fed me, but I chomp on palms that left me malnourished Say my name is synonymous to arrogance And my confidence causes grisly scenes, overbearing 'em They dont peep the work, but stay judging, put away the gavel Get mollywhopped, all facts from caps of Snapple A flip of the coin sharpens inevitable fate And all Ceasars get placed in a vegetable state No dressing, all naked, solely stripped of the pride And you'll barely see it coming, you'll be legally blind